


Like Family

by Anirrahn



Series: Fight Like a Girl [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F, Family, Friendship, Gen, Prompt Fill, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anirrahn/pseuds/Anirrahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and Simmons continue to bicker, Donut is as bubbly as ever and Sarge doesn’t know how to deal with being the only male on the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Family

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Genderbent~~ Red Team with Rule 63~  <3 De-anoning (and cleaned up a little) from the RvB kink meme~ [Backdated to appropriate time.]

She should have known something was wrong the minute she’d stepped into their room. Grif had been sitting on the edge of their bunk, practically seething as she’d walked in. Simmons had barely paid attention to the way the other girl glowered at her as she approached, figuring it was one of her usual complaints about her hiding all the snack-cakes again. _Same old, same old._ Instead, Simmons had rolled her eyes and grabbed one of Grif’s arms, yanking her up off the bed.

She’d only been a little surprised when Grif had wrenched her hand back vehemently. It was nothing, she was sure. So she’d brushed it off. She’d sighed at the shorter girl and said something about her being lucky that she hadn’t grabbed her with her cybernetic arm. Grif had only narrowed her eyes in response, choosing to purse her lips and turn away. In retrospect, that _really_  should have tipped her off; Grif never ignored a chance to bicker.

Once again though, Simmons hadn’t given it much thought and instead quickly explained to Grif that they needed to hide. When Grif failed to react, Simmons further explained that Donut had found a deck of playing cards. To her immense satisfaction, and no small amount of relief, the change in Grif was instantaneous. Eyes wide with fear, the Hawaiian looked frantically around for a place to hide. She didn’t resist this time when Simmons grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the room and down the hall.

That was how they had ended up where they were now; alone in the restroom, hiding from Donut and the inevitable strip-poker game that would follow if they were found. It wasn’t that bad. Not really. In all honesty, Simmons and Grif often found themselves hiding away together for one reason or another. The situation would have been bearable—hell it could’ve even been  _pleasant!_ —if it wasn’t for the fact that Grif was currently trying to attack Simmons with a plunger.

“Are you being serious right now? Like,  _really_?” Simmons backed away from the other girl as she swung the plunger with force, “You’re  _really_  doing this while we’re trying to hide?  _Really_?”

Grif flushed heatedly, holding the plunger like a bat, “Yes I _'really'_  am. I am abso- _fucking_ -lutely serious.”

Simmons threw up her hands in exasperation, glaring at her teammate and trying to keep her temper in check, “What the hell is the matter with you?!”

“What’s the matter with  _ **me**_?!” Grif visibly shook, her voice rising higher and her loosely tied back hair falling out in front of her face, “He’s my brother! And you were looking at him  _ **NAKED**_!”

Simmons coloured quickly, flustered, “T-that was—wait, why the hell are you still mad about that?! I thought we were done talking about this yesterday!”

“We  _were_ , until I overheard you today mumbling to yourself about abs and ‘wow, I never would’ve guessed’ and ‘are  _all_  asses that firm?’!”

Simmons yelped and blushed so red that Sarge would’ve cried proudly at the sight, “W-when did you—? I mean—!”

Grif set her jaw angrily. She gripped the plunger tighter and distractedly freed a hand to swipe the hair from in front of her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on her currently nonsensically babbling teammate. She snorted as Simmons attempted to string a coherent sentence together and ended up flailing her arms and choking on air instead.

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Simmons squeaked as she picked at her perfect, regulation-compliant, hair-bun in nervousness. Her voice was so high and her words so fast that it was a miracle Grif understood at all.

“You’re not getting out of this that easily, kiss-ass! I’m not gonna—”

“Hey! Are you guys in here? I’ve been looking all over the place for you two!”

And just like that, their argument was swiftly pushed aside to make more for a more immediate peril. Grif instantly clamped her hands over her mouth, dropping the plunger with a resounding  _clunk_. Simmons looked with wide eyes towards the restroom door as Donut's voice got louder, eyes quickly darting back to Grif’s in terror. Grif jerked her head in the direction of one of the stalls and Simmons nodded, rushing forward.

A slight scuffle ensued as both girls attempted to push into the same stall, limbs flying every which way. They did their best to try and squeeze in together but ended up half-whispering angry curses as elbows went eye-wards. It was only the sound of the restroom door squeaking open that got them to scramble quickly in and sit as best they could on top of the toilet seat. This resulted in only irritation as Grif shifted around in Simmons’ lap.

“This is so fucking uncomfortable.” she hissed under her breath.

“Says the fat-ass while I sit here feeling like an  _elephant_  made me its bitch.”

“Jealous of my curves, Simmons?”

“Yeah, your back-boobs are by far the sexiest thing I’ve ever had pressed against my face.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Shut the fuck up Grif!”

“Tell me more about what else you’ve had pressed against your face.”

“Grif, I’m fucking serious! Donut will hear us! And stop moving around!”

“Why? Is it turning you on?”

“W-what?! No! Your hair’s getting in my mouth you dick!”

“My dick’s getting in your  _what-now_?”

“ _ **Grif!**_ ”

“There you guys are!”

Simmons let out an undignified screech as Donut’s head popped up over the side of the stall, startling Grif and causing both girls to come tumbling unceremoniously out of the stall. Grif groaned and pulled herself upright, hand pressed to her forehead. Simmons wasn’t doing much better, seeing as her mechanical arm had bounced off the floor on her way down and smacked her right in the face.

“Son of a—! Great work dumbass!” Simmons bit out, rubbing at her face and hoping that her arm hadn’t left a dent in her skull.

“You’re blaming me?!”

“No shit! If you’d just shut up like I’d asked—”

“So, uh, what exactly were you two up to in there?” Donut interrupted, taking a seat on the cold floor in front of her teammates and rolling up the sleeves on her plaid, button-down shirt, “ _Ohhh,_  I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything!”

“Donut, please!” Simmons whined in despair, “I can’t deal with this right now!”

“No sweat Simmons,” Donut grinned, stretching her well-muscled arms behind her and pulling out a deck of cards, “I have something else we can all do anyways!”

“ _ **No**_ , Donut.” Grif moaned.

“But that’s no fair!” Donut pouted, “You guys never wanna do anything with me!”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s true! You guys never wanna talk about cars, or sports or that new political talk show I’ve been going on and on about! Not to mention you’ve never  _once_  offered to tear up my carpet! You know how lonely it is to do that by yourself? And that’s not even the worst part!”

“Umm, what was that about your… carpet again?”

“The absolute worst thing is,” Donut paused dramatically for a moment, eyes suddenly shining with unshed tears, “Both your cycles are synced together but mine isn’t and it always makes me feel so left out! It’s just not  _faaaaair~_!”

Simmons and Grif exchanged incredulous looks as Donut began to cry, intermittently stopping to wipe her nose wetly and noisily across her arm. Simmons wrinkled her nose at the action while Grif just rolled her eyes. Really, it just seemed like just another one of Donut’s tantrums. Or so it did before Donut hiccupped and the following wails started to seem  _genuinely_  heart-broken.

Grif uneasily looked away from the sobbing girl and glanced at Simmons. On one hand, one wrong move and Donut would barely break a sweat pummeling them into the floor. On the other hand, Donut wasn't exactly known for being violent... and she did look awfully sad. Simmons caught Grif's gaze and sighed, nodding in agreement; leave it to Donut to make them feel guilty. Both girls swiftly made their way to either side of the rookie, sitting close.

“Uhh, so what did you say you wanted to play again, Donut?” Simmons awkwardly held Donut’s hand and patted it in some manner of reassurance, “We’re, umm,  _totally_  up for whatever it is.”

Donut rubbed at her eyes, “R-really?”

Grif wrapped an arm comfortingly around her shoulders, “ _Really._ ”

 

* * *

 

Sarge sighed as he walked closer to the restroom in the hall. Even as he had been making his way over, he could hear the shrieking and giggling coming from inside. He shook his head in distress and rubbed at his temples. He never did understand what it was with women and hanging out in bathrooms.

Sometimes he wondered what it would’ve been like if he’d been assigned men on his squad instead of women. Surely they would have beaten those dirty blues by now?  _Yes_. Yes, a feeling in his gut confidently assured him that they would have! … although maybe the feeling in his gut was just tonight’s chili talking.

Which brought him back to the situation at hand.

Sarge stared at the swinging door in front of him, debating what to do. The giggling had not yet stopped. Taking a deep, calming breath, squaring his shoulder and steeling himself for what lay beyond, Sarge’s pushed in through the door. He needed to get his soldiers back in order; there were blues to eliminate after all.


End file.
